


Fate and Flowers

by Mockingjay468



Series: The Paths We Tread [6]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Murder, Beta'd, F/M, Family, Grief/Mourning, Revenge, Silmarils, Vampires, hair cutting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29516436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mockingjay468/pseuds/Mockingjay468
Summary: Edhellos is, after all, no half maia nor a man on a mission for his love. She had no spectacular talent to her name and she is not known across the continent for her great deeds.She is just Edhellos, born to two lowly shepherds in Valinor.Edhellos has spent nearly fourteen years grieving the death of her husband.Now she is going to do something about it.
Relationships: Angrod | Angaráto/Edhellos | Eldalótë, Edhellos | Eldalótë & Andreth | Saelind
Series: The Paths We Tread [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125998
Comments: 8
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> I saw a post on Tumblr saying how there was not enough Edhellos love and so I decided to give her some love in the form of a short one-shot trilogy or duology (I haven't decided yet). I don't know when I'll post the next one as my next few days are quite busy and I want to keep regularly updating Time and Music _and_ finish off my Fëanorian Week writing, as I've only finished two out of the seven _and_ I'm doing a writing prompt for somemone else which I want to finish before half-term is over. But I'll hopefully post them soonish.
> 
> Thank you to [oliviacat3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviacat3/pseuds/oliviacat3) for beta'ing as always.
> 
> And I hope you enjoy!

Edhellos watches her hair shrivel and warp in the flames of the small fire.

She swallows thickly, managing to force herself to turn away. Her shorn hair is an unfamiliar weight around her face and falls into her eyes.

She brushes it away.

She is numb – from the cold of the mountains this far north or the hole in her chest, she does not know.

She breathes in the acrid scent of burnt hair, then breathes out, relaxing her muscles and her mind and her soul. Preparing herself.

She inhales again, holding the breath for a moment at its peak.

She is ready.

She must do this.

Her exhale is shaky at best and her hands tremble as she picks up her pack.

 _Stop it Lótë_ , she tells herself sharply. _You know what you’re getting into. You’ve said your goodbyes. Put your disagreements to rest. If you do not do this, no-one will. You_ have _to do this. For Angrod._

* * *

_“Amil?”_

_Edhellos looked up. Her son hovered in the doorway, a lantern hanging loosely from his hand._

_“Are you leaving?” There was a note of resignation in his voice and Edhellos forced herself not to wince._

_She let her bag fall onto the bed, skirting through the empty room to gently caress her son’s face._

_“Artaher,” She said, using his Quenya amilessë for the first time in years. “I love you but I can’t stay. I tried, heart-of-mine, for you and Finduilas but I belong beneath the open sky. Not here beneath the earth.”_

_Orodreth leant into her hand even as he frowned. “I thought you said your home would always be with us.”_

_“It is.” Edhellos sighed, letting her hand drop to her side. “It is. But home is not where I can find my peace anymore.”_

_“You were going to leave without saying goodbye.”_

_Orodreth was a fully grown nér with a child of his own but Edhellos could see the youth in his features, the fragility of a child in the open heartbreak on his face._

_It was through years of practise that she didn’t let herself cry._

_“Never, heart-of-mine,” She insisted. “I would never have left you without a farewell.”_

_She opened her arms in the universal gesture for an embrace and Orodreth accepted, hugging her as if she were about to vanish into smoke._

* * *

Edhellos covers the fire with dirt and, although the smell of singed hair lingers, she thinks she has done a fair enough job at hiding her tracks.

It would be frustrating if she was caught this early on her quest.

There is a long journey ahead of her, she thinks, as she contemplates the task she has set herself. Maybe not in distance but certainly in body and in soul.

Edhellos is, after all, no half maia nor a man on a mission for his love. She had no spectacular talent to her name and she is not known across the continent for her great deeds.

She is just Edhellos, born to two lowly shepherds in Valinor. Given the name Mámissë by her father and Celarpë by her mother. She had just been a shepherdess, climbing after her escaping sheep or feeding the chickens or chasing after her elder sisters. Nothing noteworthy brought her to meet her husband, just mere chance that he should end up talking to her at the party and dub her Eldalótë.

She is princess of the Ñoldor by good fortune, nothing else.

 _But princess of the Ñoldor I am_ , she thinks, pushing down the self-deprecating side of her, _and I will do that title justice_.

* * *

_Finduilas was fast asleep, sprawled over her bed in a rather ungainly fashion._

_Edhellos smiled and pressed a gently, barely-there kiss to her forehead._

_“Be blessed, Artuilë,” She whispered before standing up straight and slipping out of the bedroom and down to the stables, not daring to spend another minute with goodbyes._

_Her horse, Bavron, woke at her touch, snorting and stamping a foot in disgruntlement._

_“Shh,” She said, stroking his muzzle in a calming manner._

_“Going for a midnight ride?”_

_She froze, even though she knew she was perfectly within her rights to be here._

_“What is it to you if I am?” She asked in return, not turning and continuing to pet Bavron’s nose._

_“Have you said that you are leaving?”_

_“Who said I was leaving?”_

_“The bag, for starters, and you’ve been restless for months now. Didn’t think you would cave though.”_

_Edhellos spun angrily. “And you are so much better Tyelko? Do you deserve praise for staying at you brother’s side because you are too weak to tell him what you need? Is it really worth it to make him happy while you wither away, trapped from the sun and the wind and all the things that keep you alive?”_

_Celegorm stared back at her, tight-lipped. “Yes Lótë. It is.”_

_She let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. “Then you are a better elf than me.”_

_They stared at each other for a moment before Celegorm bowed his head. “We both know that is not true.” He sighed, unnaturally weary and serious. “I wish you luck in your journey Roimevínë. I hope you do not regret it.”_

* * *

The orc armour is heavy and hot and smells disgusting. Once inside Angband’s wall, Edhellos is more than happy to dump it the moment she is alone.

She looks up. This is the central tower of the impenetrable fortress and if Sauron is anywhere, he will be at the top of this.

It is impossibly tall, made of a craggy black rock that is rough beneath her palms. It is similar to the mountains she had to climb when she was younger.

“It’ll be just like catching sheep,” She says softly, swallowing. She feels a little dizzy from the sheer height but she ignores the feeling, getting her foot firmly in a foothold and pulling herself up.

* * *

_“I suppose this is where we part.” Finvain looked over at Edhellos from her horse. “Are you sure you won’t be coming? I’m sure Finrod would love to see you.”_

_“I can’t.”_

_“No, of course not. You insist on going on a suicide quest instead.” She laughed bitterly. “First, Anno Fëanáro, then one by one, all the rest of my family. When I first met you, I thought you were sensible.”_

_“A terrible judgement on your part really.”_

_“I see that_ now _.” She sighed. “Just, for once, I would like someone not to leave.”_

_“That person can’t be me, Finvain.”_

_She sighed again and Edhellos couldn’t hold back a flinch at her misery. “I know. And I can’t stop you.” There was a long moment where they stared at each other. “Goodbye Edhellos. I shall miss you.”_

_“And I you.”_

_Finvain gave her one more lingering look before urging her horse away and into the nearby woods._

* * *

Fate must be guiding her, Edhellos decides as she clings to the outside of the tower.

The first window she should peak in and…well, it is not the window of her quarry but there is something far more enticing beyond.

She shifts again so that she might once more look into the room, her muscles aching.

Morgoth, the nightmare they all fear – a faceless evil for most, hovering over their every action – is sprawled on a large bed in the middle of the room, his mouth unattractively open as he snores.

Edhellos didn’t even know Valar _needed_ sleep.

On his head is the great iron crown, the last two silmarils sat within it – an opportunity too good to be true.

She would be doing him a favour, Edhellos decides. The crown looks lopsided with one side empty.

A million and one different reasons why what she is about to do is a terrible idea spin through her mind but she ignored them as she silently clambers through the window and draws her knife.

She leans over the bed and oh-so-carefully digs the blade under the nearest gem. She begins to lever it out, millimetre by millimetre. The light is tantalizingly close and she has to resist the urge to speed up.

She barely dares to draw breath, very aware as to how close she could be to being caught.

It comes free unexpectedly and it is only through years of training that she manages to snatch it before it lands on the sleeping Vala and disturbs him.

The silmaril is uncomfortably warm in her palm as she examined it closely. She has never got this close to one of Fëanor’s most prized creations before and she can see why he coveted them so greedily. They truly capture the light of the mingling as she remembers it.

Morgoth turns in his sleep and Edhellos freezes as she remembers exactly where she is.

She buries the silmaril in her pack – loathe to part with the glorious light but knowing the target that it would paint on her if she didn’t hide it.

Her gaze passes over the last silmaril embedded in the crown as she turns to leave. She is tempted, so very tempted…

Morgoth turns again in his sleep and she loses her nerve.

Her legs and arms still ache from the climb and she decides not to risk her neck in climbing down again.

And she still needs to complete the original task of her journey – to find Sauron and kill him as painfully as she can.

She pushes the door open as quietly as she can and creeps across the opulent living space beyond, silently begging Morgoth not to wake from his restless sleep while she is still so close to his quarters – while she is still _in_ his quarters.

She reaches the door but it is opened before she can touch it.

The world stands still for one horrible moment.

Sauron stands before her. His red hair is braided simply over one shoulder and his amber eyes stare at her with shock and anger and…betrayal? This close to him, she can see that he has a smattering of freckles over his nose which seem too out-of-place on his face. He is wearing a simple black robe with gold trim.

He looks homely, which is frankly just weird.

He is so juxtaposed to the image that Edhellos had created in her head of the maia under the armour she had glimpsed at the fall of Tol Sirion that for that second, she doesn’t even realise who it is.

But then she does – he feels _exactly_ like the being that killed her husband.

She acts before she thinks, striking out with her knife and cutting deep along a scar on his neck.

She is wondering whether she actually managed to kill him as she runs away. She is certain that twenty-three stab wounds to various important parts in the body should have been enough but still she wonders.

She skids around a corner and crashes into someone.

“Look where you’re going,” They say irritably.

Edhellos snaps her gaze up as she recognises that voice, more aloof than the last time she heard it but definitely the same.

“Andreth?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-Canon Names:  
> Lótë - Short for Eldalótë  
> Mámissë - Sheep Woman (Quenya)  
> Celarpë - Light Thief (Quenya)  
> Artuilë - Dayspring (Quenya)  
> Bavron - Shepherd (Sindarin)  
> Finvain - Radiant Hair (Quenyarised Sindarin)
> 
> Quenya Translations:  
> Amilessë - Mother Name  
> Nér - Male Elf  
> Roimevínë - Sibling of the Hunt


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> So I decided to make this a multi-chapter fic. We shall see where this decision gets us. Whatever happens, I think updates will still be a little bit sporadic.
> 
> As always, thank you [oliviacat3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviacat3/pseuds/oliviacat3) for beta'ing.
> 
> And I hope you enjoy!

“This room is…nice,” Edhellos says, looking around the cell that Andreth has brought her to. “Certainly fits with the aesthetic.”

Andreth rolls her eyes as Edhellos sits on the bed, springs digging into her thighs. “It’s horrible and you know it. It’s better than most living quarters so I suppose I should be grateful.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder and Edhellos marvels once more at the changes that she has undergone in the last few decades. She is taller, paler and more gaunt. Her eyes shine with a dark light and she is far more ethereal that Edhellos can remember her – the down-to-earth wisewoman of the Edain does not quite match this new Andreth.

“That Sauron handpicked you for a torturous experiment that changed your very nature?”

“Yes,” Andreth says tightly. “Being a vampire gives me certain advantages over the rest of the inhabitants here, apart for the Úmaiar. I can walk freely and, so long as I am careful, I can visit Aegnor every now and again.”

“Aegnor’s here too?” Ehdellos stands abruptly, stepping forward to grip Andreth’s upper arms.

She pulls away. “Of course.” She raises an eyebrow. “Surely you realised we’d _both_ been taken.”

“No. We didn’t suspect for a moment that you were taken at all – we thought you had both been _killed_.”

Andreth freezes for a moment, surprise written across her features before her expression closes and she turns to pull open a small chest in the corner, taking out an identical black outfit to the one she is wearing. “Put this on.”

“What?”

“We’re escaping and you need a disguise.” Andreth shoves the garments at her. “If we’re going to get through this heavily guarded fortress without being suspected, you’re going to need to look like you belong.

Edhellos takes the clothes wordlessly.

* * *

_“I’m going to ask her to marry me.”_

_Edhellos looked up from her knitting. “Really?”_

_“Yes.” Aegnor slid into a seat opposite her at the table. “I love her, despite Finrod’s many misgivings. I want to spend as much time with her as possible.”_

_“An admirable desire.” She smiled. “I wish you luck in your endeavour. Have you a ring?”_

_“Of course. I’ve been asking about mannish wedding traditions. I shall ask her on our walk today. We’ll be going down the river, to this lovely place I’ve found.”_

_She frowned. “I don’t know if that’s wise, if you’re going to go without escort. There’s been increased orc activity in the area.”_

_“Do not fret so, sister. I am well able to protect us. And anyway, the area is quite out of the way.”_

_“If you are sure.” She smiled again. “I suppose we will have a wedding to plan.”_

_“You think she shall say yes.”_

_“She loves you. It would be folly of her not to.”_

* * *

Andreth is correct. If Edhellos pretends that she belongs among this hellscape, the many beings rushing to and fro pay her no attention.

“You there.”

Andreth stops suddenly in the hall, turning to the person. She bows and Edhellos follows suit.

The person snorts a laugh. “What’s your name?”

“Gaeross, Lord Tevildo.” Andreth says in a monotone voice, not standing up. “And this is Seresgal. How may we assist you?”

“Lord Melkor requires the presence of your lot in the throne room. Your master has been…incapacitated…and one of the silmarils has been stolen. He’s _furious_.” There is a note of glee in his voice. “Mairon’s done it this time, I think. You may very well be looking at the _new_ lieutenant of Angband. Right, get to it.” He struts away.

“Ugh.” Andreth straightens up. “He’s _pathetic_. I have _no_ idea how he got so high in the pecking order with so few brains. It’s clear to anyone with eyes that Lord Melkor _adores_ Lord Gorthaur more than anything. He’s the only thing I’ve ever seen Melkor tears his eyes away from the Silmaril’s light for.”

“Are we going to-”

“Find the other vampires? No, of course not. Use your brain Edhellos. Anyway, Thuringwethil will already be on it.”

Edhellos is feeling a little overwhelmed by the sheer normality with which Andreth acts at the goings on in this fortress but nods all the same.

“Now come on. We need to get to the mines before anyone else stops us. Next time, we might not be so lucky.”

* * *

_“They’re not back. They should be back by now, right?” Angrod stopped his pacing in front of the fire to look at his wife._

_Edhellos pursed her lips. “Yes. They should. But we have sent out guards. If they come back empty-handed, then we will go ourselves but I’m sure they’ve just done something ill-advised and got trapped or completely lost track of time. You_ know _they have a tendency to do so.”_

 _Angrod sighed and sunk onto the floor. “I would know if he had died,” He whispered softly. “I would_ know _.”_

_Edhellos slipped off her chair to wrap a comforting arm around her husband. “Then he is not dead. Keep that small comfort.”_

_“Is it a comfort though? What if-”_

_“Yes,” Edhellos says forcefully, her voice breaking as she desperately tries not to think of the fate that might await them, should they have been captured by the Enemy. “Don’t think otherwise.”_

* * *

It gets darker and darker as they go down until Edhellos can no longer see and has to grab Andreth’s hand as a guide through the dark. Whatever Sauron did to her has given her far better eyesight than Edhellos.

She stops suddenly, jerking Edhellos to a halt.

“That was you.”

“Pardon?”

“Who stole the Silmaril. And incapacitated Sauron.”

“Oh that. Yes. That was me.” Edhellos rubs her nose awkwardly. “Finvain said it was because I was crazy and grief-stricken but really it was about revenge – I was completely sane when I made my decision.”

“Right.” They begin again down what Edhellos assumes to be a corridor. “Revenge for what?”

Edhellos laughs in disbelief. “He killed my husband and stole my home. What other reason should I have?”

“What?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I…I knew he’d taken Tol Sirion but I assumed you had taken it back when he returned here. But he killed Angrod?”

“Yes.” Edhellos can feel her throat closing as she thinks of the terrible day and she has to push the thought far from her head.

“Fuck. I should have-”

“If you blame yourself at _all_ for what happened, I will scream.”

Andreth’s hand in hers tightens slightly for a moment. “I suppose there was nothing that would have changed should I have attempted something.”

“Except you would have been killed and unable to provide Aegnor any comfort at all in this hellhole. He is my brother and I would not begrudge him such.”

“You are right.”

Edhellos scoffs. “Of _course_ I am right. I am not Maedhros – I do not tell comforting lies.”

* * *

_Edhellos adjusted her veil in the mirror, her springy hair refusing to stay beneath it, no matter how tightly she did her braids or how many pins she attached it with._

_She sighed, letting her hands fall to her side and giving up on her hair._

_“Just one day. Can’t you just behave for_ one day _?” She asked her reflection, slightly desperately. Aegnor wouldn’t have cared anyway – his hair was never obedient and would always fly out of his braids. But for his funeral – or memorial or whatever it was they were holding – she wanted to look her best._

_She sighed again, giving up and letting the flyaway hairs win._

_“Bestana?”_

_Edhellos turned and smiled sadly at her law-daughter, standing in her new mourning clothes of the Ñoldor style – white, trimmed in black._

_“Caraneth.” Edhellos reached up to gently caress her daughter-in-law’s scarred cheek, just below her blind right eye. “Iel-nin, how are you?”_

_“Finduilas still hasn’t spoken again.”_

_“She will. In her own time.”_

_“I know. I still worry.”_

_Edhellos took Caraneth’s hands in her own. “It is a mother’s duty to worry.”_

_“Then you worry for Orodreth too?”_

_“He has argued with Angrod before,” Edhellos said, avoiding the real question._

_“Not like this, I fear.”_

_“They are both grieving.” Edhellos threw her veil over her shoulder. “I shall let it run its course. They are not so stubborn as to go too long without an apology. Do not fear, iel-nin.”_

_She pressed a kiss to the top of Caraneth’s veil._

* * *

“Entrance to the cells in barred.”

Edhellos cursed her inability to see as the raspy voice echoed out of the dark in front of her.

“I am here on order of our Lord Melkor.” Andreth’s voice is high and imposing. “He believes that the incursion occurred due to inside influence. I am to interrogate the prisoners.”

“You need signed papers from Lord Mairon.”

“Lord Mairon has been incapacitated _by_ the intruder. You cannot expect papers from someone who is not even conscious.”

“I have my orders.”

“And I have mine! Do you know how furious Lord Melkor will be when he finds out you denied me entrance?”

“That will be your problem.”

Andreth’s hand in Edhellos’ squeezes before disappearing. There is a bang, a splutter and then a sound of disgust.

“I hate beheading people.”

“You beheaded him?”

“I needed the key to Aegnor’s cell. We’d better hurry before we’re found out.” Andreth’s hand finds Edhellos’ again and she is pulled into a run.

* * *

_“Amil,” Orodreth began sleepily. His head was cushioned in Edhellos’ lap where he had sobbed himself into a half sleep._

_“Yes, ion-nin?”_

_“Why must it hurt?”_

_Edhellos sighed – she had found herself doing that a lot recently – and her hand stilled where it was combing through his hair. “Because you lost something dear to you. Your uncle was as much a father to you as your father. Losing a child-” She stopped, swallowed the pain down and continued. “Losing a child was one of the most painful experiences of my life. Losing a parent must be just as painful – I know that being parted from my own parents, even if I knew that they would be safe, hurt me deeply.”_

_He leant into her hand gently. “I’m sorry Amil.”_

_“Don’t be silly heart-of-mine.” She tucks a lock of his golden hair behind his ear. “We all have our pain to bear. This is mine and that is yours.”_

* * *

Edhellos may not be able to see but she hears the door of the cell opening well enough. It creaks on it’s hinges loudly and she cringes back, pricking her ears for the sound of feet signalling that they had been discovered.

“Aegnor?” Andreth asks and Edhellos loses the hand keeping her anchored.

“Andreth?”

Edhellos inhales sharply. Despite the rasp, Aegnor still sounds freakishly like his twin.

“Yes dear. It’s me.”

“Andreth.”

There is a long silence, punctuated only by the slow dripping of water somewhere in the distance and whispered words so soft that Edhellos cannot make them out.

“Edhellos?”

“Yes?” Edhellos turns her head sharply to the sound of her name.

“You’re…you’re here too?”

“Yes.”

“Are you hurt? Have they done-”

“Shh,” She hushes before she thinks. “It’s alright. I’m here of my own volition. I stabbed Sauron and stole a Silmaril. And now we’re going to escape.”

He laughs in self-deprecation. “I shan’t be able to come with you. I will only slow you down.”

Edhellos snorts. “Nonsense. I shall carry you if I must.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-Canon Names:  
> Gaeross - Dread Metal (Sindarin)  
> Seresgal - Blood Veil (Sindarin)  
> Caraneth - Red Woman (Sindarin)
> 
> Quenya Translations:  
> Úmaiar - Evil Spirits  
> Amil - Mother (Informal)
> 
> Sindarin Translations:  
> Bestana - Marriage Mother  
> Iel-nin - My daughter  
> Ion-nin - My son


End file.
